I'll Call
by li-flower
Summary: Best friends finally tell each other how they really feel in phone call from Santa Fe to New York. Oneshot. RogerMark friendship, some RogerMimi. Rated for language and mention of drug use.


**Long A/N**: I got the idea for this story while listening to "Goodbye Love." There's a line where before he leaves, Roger softly tells Mark that he'll call. When I was trying to imagine the call would be like, I thought about the changes that happen between "Goodbye Love" and "What You Own." I wanted to explore the relationship between Mark and Roger. You don't find friendship like that everyday. The two also happen to be my favorite characters because I can relate to them. A lot of the time I see myself as Mark, the lone, detached observer buried in her work. I'm like Roger in that I use my "baggage" as an excuse not to get into relationships with others (even though mine isn't as heavy as his) and I feel that sense of urgency to write my bestselling novel (my one novel glory). Hell, I got that feeling while trying to complete this.

Anyway, sorry for that long spiel. Rent is one of those works that gets me talking. I hope that this isn't too OOC for Roger and Mark and that I didn't try to put too much in there. Viva la vie Bohème! - Hana Li

**Disclaimer:** Rent is Jonathan Larson's masterpiece.

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**I'll Call**

When Roger Davis got to Santa Fe, he called his ex-roommate, like he said he would.

"SPEEEEEAAAAAK." _Beeeeeep!_

Mark Cohen was the expert call screener. "Dammit Mark, pick up the phone!"

How tempting it was to ignore Roger and keep working on the documentary. He didn't want to hear the musician's excuses, but he didn't want to hear accusations of being buried in his work either. So Mark picked up the phone. "Hi Roger."

There was silence. Not once in the past had they been at a loss for words when conversing with each another. When one started talking, the other would jump in until they had a rhythm going. People would mistake them for brothers because they'd wind up saying the same thing at the same time. It was kind of creepy and an insult to their masculinity whenever people said it was "cute," but that odd quirk characterized the deep bond they shared. How did they manage to lose all that in less than a year?

Finally, Roger said, "How's Collins?"

"Still grieving, but he'll be okay," Mark replied. _I think._

"Could you tell him I'm sorry about my behavior at Angel's funeral?"

"Yeah."

Another silence. When did either one of them become so terse? They used to go on and on about their opinions, their visions, their ideals…any topic, except themselves. They never spoke of their inner struggles, their fears, or their true feelings. Not to anyone else, not to each other. As a consequence, all remained of their relationship was this—silence.

Now, Mark spoke up. "Mimi was very upset when you left."

"I know."

"I convinced her to check into rehab." The filmmaker paused before adding, "Benny's paying for it."

Roger swore. He wasn't sure if he was more upset about Mark and Mimi relying on Benny's money or his own inability to help her out. No, his anger came from something else all together.

It was a bad move on Mark's part, but his former roommate deserved to know. "She needs help, Roger, and Benny is the only one who can afford to pay for it."

"You fucking hypocrite! Whatever happened to 'Money doesn't matter' and 'Let's stick it to the man'? You've sold out, just like Benny."

"When did this become all about me?" Mark demanded. "Don't you want what's best for Mimi? Or would you rather see her die of an overdose than AIDS?"

He gasped when he realized what he said. "Roger, I didn't mean—she's not April, you know."

"This is what I'm talking about. You're always trying to make things okay even if it means giving up everything you used to stand for. Stop the act, Mark."

Mark's contrition was quickly replaced with anger. "What act? You're the one who's pretending to be jealous. Don't make Benny the scapegoat when you're more worried about Mimi's addiction or HIV taking her away from you. You're the one who's running away from everything."

If he wasn't halfway across the country, Roger would've punched Mark. "At least I'm not pretending to care when all I really want to do is to hide behind my work. I don't butt into everybody else's business, preaching this and that, because I can't face myself."

"Oh you wanna talk about who's not facing himself? Who sat on the couch all day feeling sorry himself? Then, when Mimi came along, you wouldn't allow yourself to have something good. You gave up on yourself, and that's why you can't write that damn song."

"This coming from the king of self-pity? The guy who's been working on his movie for how long?" Roger scoffed. "Say that I've given up. Fine, but I can deal with my loneliness. You, on the other hand, can't even think of the day your camera stops rolling because then you don't have an excuse to live vicariously through us. You want to experience love, but you don't want to deal with the heartaches. Do you know want to know why Maureen left you? It's because you didn't do a damn thing when she cheated on you. She wanted you to get jealous and do something to prove your love, not let her get away with things for the sake of staying together. You don't even know what love is, and you can't stand the idea of failure. That's why you never pick up when your family calls. You can't bear to hear how disappointed they are in their little Mark."

While Mark was the level-headed one, even he had a breaking point. He reached it, thanks to Roger intentionally bringing up sore subjects. That bastard. "Do you want to know how I really feel? I'm jealous that everybody has someone to go home with. All I have when I wake up in the morning is my work. That's why I bury myself in it; it's the only that will stay with me to the end. I'm alone and it sucks. You know how shitty it felt when the power went out on Christmas Eve? Well, loneliness is a hundred times colder and much worse because you can't just go light a fire. I'm pissed off at everybody because with the exception of Collins and Angel, you guys gave up on the best thing that a person could ever have due to your own insecurities. I'm jealous, alone, and pissed off. But most of all, I'm scared of losing you, Roger!"

The musician was taken aback by his friend's words and the quiet sob that followed. He didn't know how much of an impact his problems had on Mark. When he was using and afterwards, during the withdrawal, he had several close calls. His roommate had come to his assistance each time, no matter how much it killed him on the inside. Now to do this, to leave voluntarily, it was the last straw. Mark was genuinely concerned about everybody's welfare. Roger realized that even though the camera sheltered the filmmaker from painful emotions, it also cursed him to be the one who had to tell everybody's stories. Who was going to tell Mark Cohen's story?

Did Mark have to be the only one to tell their stories though? Maureen had her performances; he had his music (if he could just write that song); and everybody had memories. Couldn't they all contribute something?

"Roger, are you still there?" he heard whispered from the other end.

"I don't want you to see me die, Mark, but I don't want to die alone either," he softly confessed.

"We're all dying in our own way."

Mark wanted to laugh and cry at his own morbid tone. So this was the end of _la vie Bohème_. How ironic that its death was at the hands of their own champions. However, it could be revived, like in the past, right? They still had to time change their lives before it was too late, right? There was a lot of things he had to do, a lot of things he needed to say, before it was too late. "Hey Roger, I don't know if I ever told you this . . . but I love you, man." Then he added (just in case), "In a man-to-man—I mean, not like—what I'm trying to say is that I love you like a brother."

A weight was lifted off of Mark's chest. It didn't matter how his best friend would respond. He just needed to get those words out, to speak the truth, to _live_ truthfully.

He heard Roger laugh. "You know, I'm trying to imagine what you look like right now, and it's a hilarious sight. I love you too, dude. No matter how ridiculous and awkward you can be."

Roger was shocked at how easily he said it. For those words to come out so spontaneously, so painlessly, when it really mattered . . . maybe there was hope for him after all. "I'll come back, I promise. So you better have that movie done, and it better be good."

"And you better come up with a song that's not some cheap-ass imitation of an opera score."

With that, Roger and Mark simultaneously hung up. They still had a lot of things to do, like write a song and finish a movie. They had battles to fight, fears to face, messages to convey, and people to remember. It was too much to accomplish in a day, but as long as they had each other, as long as they lived without holding back, they could take it a day at a time. And eventually, fall will turn into winter and Christmas Eve will come again.


End file.
